Marathon training changes your life. I am not talking about the cliché “I am a new and better person sort of way” either. I am talking about basic, day to day stuff. For instance, my poor friends. ALL I TALK ABOUT IS RUNNING! I hear the words coming out of my mouth and can’t stop them “on my run this…” or “oh I have to do 14 miles that weekend that…” All I talk about nutrition, carbo loading, vitamins, stretching, cross training, head lamps, wicking gear and repeat my personal favorite phrase “I am training for a marathon” (usually as I shove a bite of pie or cake or a Cadbury Cream Egg in my mouth) as an excuse for everything! I know that there are a few people who find this interesting. But I wonder if I am annoying the heck out of everyone else?
I want to be more interesting than my training schedule, but I can’t seem to help it! I’ve been trying to figure out why this is. If I have some deep seeded inner need for approval or attention I am trying to seek. But that’s not really it. I settled on a conclusion as I lay on the couch on Saturday after my 10 mile run. I talk about training all of the time because it’s all I think about and do. Of course I think about work, and friends, but the time most people spend watching interesting televison shows, sports and movies or reading great books, I have spent devoted to training.
It’s not just the time runs/workouts take. That’s only an hour most days, and a couple of hours on the weekends. That alone would not merit this kind of obsessive, one-track thinking. No, it’s more than the workouts. It’s time I spend waking up early enough so I can eat something long enough before my run. It’s time I spend stretching, showering and changing after they’re done. It’s time I spend washing my workout clothes, which are now dirty most of the time. It’s the extra sleep my body demands and the recovery time after a tough workout. I can’t just run 10 miles and go about a busy Saturday. I took two naps and spent most of the day on the couch! I wear only good shoes now to preserve my feet, and stay far away from anyone with a trace of a cold. It’s planning good meals and drinking water and taking vitamins so I feel good on my runs. It’s reading about training and mentally preparing. It literally takes all of my free time! I was starting to wonder if I was just overdoing the whole thing when a friend who has run one reminded me that no one knows how intense training for a marathon is until they have done it.
Training demands a lot of attention, focus, energy and sacrifice. It changes how you see everyday life. I only hope it isn’t too challenging to my friendships. For all of you out there who have listened to me, thank you. If we are still friends after the 25 of April, it will be through your grace and patience. And for those of you who have run with me, read this, and shared your running/marathon training wisdom, there will be miles dedicated to you at the race. It is with your support that this will move from everyday changes (and craziness) to a change for the better.
28 January 2010
20 January 2010
Rejoicing in Running
Dear Mother Earth, who day by day,
unfoldest blessings on her way
Alleluia, alleluia
Running is my prayer: a night run, and the raw beauty and simplicity of Patty Griffin singing All Creatures of Our God and King led me to focus on this. Running is my prayer: my recognition that God is alive in this world. It is my grateful response to the abundant blessings of this life. Each foot strike is my Alleluia.
Listening tonight to this song, I was drawn to a quiet moment of reflection. I thought about my run last night. It was dark when I left so once again, the headlamp was guiding my way. I was with a friend on my favorite 5 mile hilly route that curves and winds near mansions, golf courses, and forests. Of course we couldn’t see any of it. A little beam of light doesn’t do much for illuminating beautiful vistas. Nevertheless, it was perfect. Good conversation interrupted by some gasping for breath at the top of the hills, exuberance upon accomplishing them, then right back to the good conversation. In darkness it was a new way of “seeing” and experiencing this favorite route. Then in the light we caught two deer crossing the street in front of us elevating the evening to something beyond a training run Deer, some of my favorite creatures with their size, their quietness and their elegant movements, are common in my neighborhood. But I don’t see them everyday. A possible deer sighting is a reason for me to run, and they never fail to surprise and delight me.
Thou rising moon, in praise rejoice
Ye lights of evening find a voice
Alleluia, alleluia
Trying to fit my run in yesterday was nearly impossible. A 14.5 hour work day left me with only a 2 hour break to run, shower and eat my dinner before getting to the next meeting. It would have been the easier thing to skip it. If I were only training, I might have done that.
But running is my prayer.
Ye who long pain and sorrow bear,
Praise God and on him cast your care,
Alleluia, alleluia
There are days, like yesterday, where running saves me. It takes my tired bad mood and transforms it into energy and peacefulness. It reminds me that our routines are really never routine. There are surprises and moments of delight waiting in the darkness. It allows me to celebrate and be thankful for what my body can do: find energy through physical exertion, make it up a hill, stay warm in the cold, see moonlight and deer walking, hear the wind, smell the dampness of melting snow, and feel myself growing stronger and faster. It allows me to say, with the action of movement, thank you. I still have much to learn. I still don’t know where I am being called to or led, but I am willing to discover. I am willing to embrace the mystery, to push myself, and to be open to where the light will lead. Thank you for this great journey. Thank you for filling it with unimaginable beauty. Thank you. Alleluia, Amen.
Let all things their Creator bless,
And worship Him in humbleness,
Alleluia.
To hear Patty Griffin singing this song before her album Downtown Church comes out on Jan. 26th copy and paste the site below:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=122500765&ps=bb2
unfoldest blessings on her way
Alleluia, alleluia
Running is my prayer: a night run, and the raw beauty and simplicity of Patty Griffin singing All Creatures of Our God and King led me to focus on this. Running is my prayer: my recognition that God is alive in this world. It is my grateful response to the abundant blessings of this life. Each foot strike is my Alleluia.
Listening tonight to this song, I was drawn to a quiet moment of reflection. I thought about my run last night. It was dark when I left so once again, the headlamp was guiding my way. I was with a friend on my favorite 5 mile hilly route that curves and winds near mansions, golf courses, and forests. Of course we couldn’t see any of it. A little beam of light doesn’t do much for illuminating beautiful vistas. Nevertheless, it was perfect. Good conversation interrupted by some gasping for breath at the top of the hills, exuberance upon accomplishing them, then right back to the good conversation. In darkness it was a new way of “seeing” and experiencing this favorite route. Then in the light we caught two deer crossing the street in front of us elevating the evening to something beyond a training run Deer, some of my favorite creatures with their size, their quietness and their elegant movements, are common in my neighborhood. But I don’t see them everyday. A possible deer sighting is a reason for me to run, and they never fail to surprise and delight me.
Thou rising moon, in praise rejoice
Ye lights of evening find a voice
Alleluia, alleluia
Trying to fit my run in yesterday was nearly impossible. A 14.5 hour work day left me with only a 2 hour break to run, shower and eat my dinner before getting to the next meeting. It would have been the easier thing to skip it. If I were only training, I might have done that.
But running is my prayer.
Ye who long pain and sorrow bear,
Praise God and on him cast your care,
Alleluia, alleluia
There are days, like yesterday, where running saves me. It takes my tired bad mood and transforms it into energy and peacefulness. It reminds me that our routines are really never routine. There are surprises and moments of delight waiting in the darkness. It allows me to celebrate and be thankful for what my body can do: find energy through physical exertion, make it up a hill, stay warm in the cold, see moonlight and deer walking, hear the wind, smell the dampness of melting snow, and feel myself growing stronger and faster. It allows me to say, with the action of movement, thank you. I still have much to learn. I still don’t know where I am being called to or led, but I am willing to discover. I am willing to embrace the mystery, to push myself, and to be open to where the light will lead. Thank you for this great journey. Thank you for filling it with unimaginable beauty. Thank you. Alleluia, Amen.
Let all things their Creator bless,
And worship Him in humbleness,
Alleluia.
To hear Patty Griffin singing this song before her album Downtown Church comes out on Jan. 26th copy and paste the site below:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=122500765&ps=bb2
17 January 2010
Really Running with a Headlamp
I like plans and schedules. I like to know what’s happening in my day. I’ve found I don’t really accomplish as much as I want to or enjoy free time as much as I need to when I don’t have some sort of plan. Working out is an excellent example of this. Plan or no plan, I work out more often than I don’t. It’s just that without a plan, I am okay with a few days off here and there, or I’ll wind up spending a half hour thinking about if I should run today or not. It’s just not the most efficient way of doing things (that is not always a bad thing, it’s just not always my favorite either.)
A marathon plan changes all of that. I find myself thinking about when I will get my runs in a lot (read: obsessively) then working out at crazy times to do that. Like this morning, I needed to be on the road by 7 a.m. so I could still fit in some of my long miles with a friend. Not at all a usual time for me on a three day weekend. And not at all something I would do if there were no training plan.
So I wasn’t used to seeing how dark it was at this hour. There was no trace of the sun at 6:40 a.m. when I needed to leave. In those moments, I gave no thought to how dorky the headlamp might look. I needed it. I headed out the door and allowed that bright, LED light to guide me.
It was a solid hour before the sun made any type of appearance. In fact, even mere hours after it happened I have to convince myself it was morning, not night, when I was running. I have never been so grateful for the headlamp’s invention. I felt both smart and safe with it. It was dark; I needed to get my run in; this is the only time today it could happen, and the headlamp made it possible for it to happen in a safe way.
I suppose that’s why we have running gear. So when we actually can commit to something like 5 months worth of training, we can’t use weather, or sunlight as an excuse not to get off our butts and go. Sure there will still be extreme snowy or icy days, and I won’t risk a broken leg for a day of training. But there are far fewer excuses with things like headlamps and jackets, gloves, reflective hats, shirts and shoes. While I maintain that “all you need is a pair of good shoes to run,” training is different. It’s a commitment over a long period of time that demands some sacrifices and creativity. My mom always said we need the right tools for doing what we are passionate about—in this instance the right tool was a headlamp.
A marathon plan changes all of that. I find myself thinking about when I will get my runs in a lot (read: obsessively) then working out at crazy times to do that. Like this morning, I needed to be on the road by 7 a.m. so I could still fit in some of my long miles with a friend. Not at all a usual time for me on a three day weekend. And not at all something I would do if there were no training plan.
So I wasn’t used to seeing how dark it was at this hour. There was no trace of the sun at 6:40 a.m. when I needed to leave. In those moments, I gave no thought to how dorky the headlamp might look. I needed it. I headed out the door and allowed that bright, LED light to guide me.
It was a solid hour before the sun made any type of appearance. In fact, even mere hours after it happened I have to convince myself it was morning, not night, when I was running. I have never been so grateful for the headlamp’s invention. I felt both smart and safe with it. It was dark; I needed to get my run in; this is the only time today it could happen, and the headlamp made it possible for it to happen in a safe way.
I suppose that’s why we have running gear. So when we actually can commit to something like 5 months worth of training, we can’t use weather, or sunlight as an excuse not to get off our butts and go. Sure there will still be extreme snowy or icy days, and I won’t risk a broken leg for a day of training. But there are far fewer excuses with things like headlamps and jackets, gloves, reflective hats, shirts and shoes. While I maintain that “all you need is a pair of good shoes to run,” training is different. It’s a commitment over a long period of time that demands some sacrifices and creativity. My mom always said we need the right tools for doing what we are passionate about—in this instance the right tool was a headlamp.
13 January 2010
Top 10 Reasons to Run Outside in Winter
I am much more of a fan of cold, snowy, winter running then the hot, humid heat of summer running. I feel more energized, I run faster, I don't become quite as soaked with sweat...but people have called me crazy. They tell me it's dangerous or hard to breathe or whatever. I would concede that it's harder to get out the door and easier to curl up under a blanket and watch a movie. But here's the thing. If you are going to train for a marathon, it's going to take at least 4 months (provided you are already running) so you are bound to have some bad weather in that time. In the past few weeks I have discovered all sorts of great reasons for training in the cold. These are my top ten. I'd love to hear yours as well!
10) Less skin exposed=less chafing!
9) You have first hand knowledge that it's possible to choke on a snowflake.
8) 32 Degrees becomes a reason to celebrate (after runs in single digits!)
7) A newfound appreciation for people who shovel.
6) It's easier to run incognito (darkness, layers of gear, etc) and avoid paparazzi.
5) You know down to the minute when the sun sets, and can appreciate the lengthening days.
4) Hot showers after a cold run-ione of the best things in life.
3) Snowfalls in darkness have a certain quiet beauty that might otherwise be missed.
2) At what other time is a blinking light or reflector strip a necessary item of apparel?
1) You are definitely more hardcore, badass and elite for braving the cold!
10) Less skin exposed=less chafing!
9) You have first hand knowledge that it's possible to choke on a snowflake.
8) 32 Degrees becomes a reason to celebrate (after runs in single digits!)
7) A newfound appreciation for people who shovel.
6) It's easier to run incognito (darkness, layers of gear, etc) and avoid paparazzi.
5) You know down to the minute when the sun sets, and can appreciate the lengthening days.
4) Hot showers after a cold run-ione of the best things in life.
3) Snowfalls in darkness have a certain quiet beauty that might otherwise be missed.
2) At what other time is a blinking light or reflector strip a necessary item of apparel?
1) You are definitely more hardcore, badass and elite for braving the cold!
05 January 2010
What the Calendar Doesn't Know...
I think I knew what kind of calendar a person should follow to train for a marathon long before I ever had a desire to run one. Long runs on weekends, a fast run during the week, and a couple of “easy” runs and cross training to round it out. I knew that you never run more than 20 miles if you are training for your first marathon and that you taper the weeks before. What I did not know is that “The Marathon Calendar” does not know everything about the life of a person training!
I was all set to follow my training plan to the letter. I figured out the whole five months and have already made plans for runs when I am traveling and working late and everything else. Even with all of my careful planning I knew that things would eventually go awry and at some point I’d have to adapt the plan. In the first month I think I have followed the exact plan maybe, maybe 50 percent of the time! What could cause me to shift the calendar so soon into training? When I am fresh and excited and never needing to run more than 7 miles?
Let’s start with a severe case of food poisoning right before my first “long run” (5 miles.) I went to bed early, had my clothes laid out and had successfully followed the calendar for almost one whole week! I was up plenty early for that run, but I spent the whole night crawling back and forth from my bedroom to the bathroom, throwing up, shivering, and passing out on the floor. Running was not an option. I couldn’t even walk for 24 hours. It took a week for me to feel well enough to try a 30-minute run and to think about eating normally again. So adaptation number one. Try to recover before running and hope it doesn’t happen marathon week!
It also doesn’t take into account when you go on a trip and bring every single item of running clothing you own—except your running shoes! (An actual true story) It doesn’t know about an icy day, or a very cold day or just a very busy day. Lest you think The Marathon Calendar only doesn’t know about reasons not to run, let me tell you that The Marathon Calendar also doesn’t know when you made a wrong turn on a run and wound up going 8.5 miles instead of the scheduled 7 (these are all taken directly from my current training, nothing here is made up!)
What I am learning, is that despite my careful plan and the hours spent thinking about how and where and when I will get in these runs, things happen. Wrong turns and sicknesses are just part of living life for five months. The true art in any long term plan, any goal that will take more than a week or two to accomplish, is to know how to adapt the plan. To value each step as a part of the bigger picture, but not make each step the whole picture. To move forward, stumble backward, take a detour, then brush yourself off and keep going. To know “the Marathon Calendar” and your personal best aren’t always the same thing. To believe in and expect nothing less than your personal best, and in then end, to trust that is enough.
I was all set to follow my training plan to the letter. I figured out the whole five months and have already made plans for runs when I am traveling and working late and everything else. Even with all of my careful planning I knew that things would eventually go awry and at some point I’d have to adapt the plan. In the first month I think I have followed the exact plan maybe, maybe 50 percent of the time! What could cause me to shift the calendar so soon into training? When I am fresh and excited and never needing to run more than 7 miles?
Let’s start with a severe case of food poisoning right before my first “long run” (5 miles.) I went to bed early, had my clothes laid out and had successfully followed the calendar for almost one whole week! I was up plenty early for that run, but I spent the whole night crawling back and forth from my bedroom to the bathroom, throwing up, shivering, and passing out on the floor. Running was not an option. I couldn’t even walk for 24 hours. It took a week for me to feel well enough to try a 30-minute run and to think about eating normally again. So adaptation number one. Try to recover before running and hope it doesn’t happen marathon week!
It also doesn’t take into account when you go on a trip and bring every single item of running clothing you own—except your running shoes! (An actual true story) It doesn’t know about an icy day, or a very cold day or just a very busy day. Lest you think The Marathon Calendar only doesn’t know about reasons not to run, let me tell you that The Marathon Calendar also doesn’t know when you made a wrong turn on a run and wound up going 8.5 miles instead of the scheduled 7 (these are all taken directly from my current training, nothing here is made up!)
What I am learning, is that despite my careful plan and the hours spent thinking about how and where and when I will get in these runs, things happen. Wrong turns and sicknesses are just part of living life for five months. The true art in any long term plan, any goal that will take more than a week or two to accomplish, is to know how to adapt the plan. To value each step as a part of the bigger picture, but not make each step the whole picture. To move forward, stumble backward, take a detour, then brush yourself off and keep going. To know “the Marathon Calendar” and your personal best aren’t always the same thing. To believe in and expect nothing less than your personal best, and in then end, to trust that is enough.
03 January 2010
The Dreaded Treadmill
The title might not indicate this, but let me start by saying I really, really tried to have a good attitude about the treadmill. Running outside was not an option today. My plan called for a 6-mile route and I was getting home after dark on a zero degree-day. There isn’t a run around my neighborhood that feels safe for that long after dark. I consider myself tough about the cold, but factoring in safety and temperature, inside running looked like a good option. Besides that I was inspired by a book about first time marathoners and this guy who trained for an entire marathon on the TREADMILL! I just had one measly 6 mile run to do so I thought maybe I haven’t given the old treadmill enough of a chance.
You know how long it took to go back to my old treadmill hating ways? 30 seconds. Maybe 28. I was distracted by the fact that once I got up to speed on the treadmill, I proceeded to move my arms the wrong way and fling my ipod across the gym. Feeling a little embarrassed I hit the pause button and went to chase down my music. Note: The treadmill did not count this little jaunt as part of my mileage. Also, there isn’t a reading for humiliation factor among the blinking lights and numbers.
But I am training for a marathon; I have a good attitude; I am determined to work out inside and like it! I got back on the ipod flinging device and started up again. At 6 mph I was barely staying on the machine and my heart rate was through the roof. I am sure I can run 10-minute miles. I have run 5Ks in under 30 minutes and it did not feel this miserable in the first 30 seconds. What is wrong with this thing? Is 6 mph on a treadmill different than by land? All I knew was there was no way I could survive an hour of this. This was supposed to be an easy run! I brought it down to 5 mph. Time crept by. I looked at TVs. I tried to people watch. I tried to think about the next week and day. I tried to time how long I could go without looking at the elapsed time (usually 10 seconds). I tried counting things, making it through a song, watching my reflection in the glass…everything! After all of that 5 minutes had gone by. It felt like years. How does anyone do this?
I managed a full 30 minutes. When I was at the point of loud screams and curse words the entire gym would hear, I decided to finish my workout on the track. I only had 28 laps to do to get to 6 miles!
As I set off around the track, I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally I was getting somewhere. I actually felt like I was moving. I finished the first mile in 10 minutes. As I was doing the laps I thought about why the treadmill makes me so miserable these days. Treadmills are about time, not distance. You can’t watch the miles go by running in one spot. All you can do is wait for the numbers to tell you that you are going forward. Marathons are about distance. They’re not meant to be fast. They’re meant to be slow and steady. A first time marathoner shouldn’t even have a time goal! Treadmills punish that with their tedium. Outside (or even on a track) it’s much easier to focus on distance. Whether it’s how close you are to home, or how many laps you have done, your watch won’t tell you how far you have come. Time and treadmills move at a constant pace; runners do not. There are subtle variations in our speed based on landscape and weather and how we are feeling. That’s what I like about endurance running. Moving with the natural rhythms of my body and the landscape and taking in the surroundings. Accomplishing the miles. Going out for a long run, turning around, and somehow making it home. Tomorrow I will take my running back outside and leave the treadmill for short speed workouts or moments of true desperation. Tomorrow, I will have a new appreciation for the sidewalks, the streets and even the cold—and I owe it all to the treadmill.
You know how long it took to go back to my old treadmill hating ways? 30 seconds. Maybe 28. I was distracted by the fact that once I got up to speed on the treadmill, I proceeded to move my arms the wrong way and fling my ipod across the gym. Feeling a little embarrassed I hit the pause button and went to chase down my music. Note: The treadmill did not count this little jaunt as part of my mileage. Also, there isn’t a reading for humiliation factor among the blinking lights and numbers.
But I am training for a marathon; I have a good attitude; I am determined to work out inside and like it! I got back on the ipod flinging device and started up again. At 6 mph I was barely staying on the machine and my heart rate was through the roof. I am sure I can run 10-minute miles. I have run 5Ks in under 30 minutes and it did not feel this miserable in the first 30 seconds. What is wrong with this thing? Is 6 mph on a treadmill different than by land? All I knew was there was no way I could survive an hour of this. This was supposed to be an easy run! I brought it down to 5 mph. Time crept by. I looked at TVs. I tried to people watch. I tried to think about the next week and day. I tried to time how long I could go without looking at the elapsed time (usually 10 seconds). I tried counting things, making it through a song, watching my reflection in the glass…everything! After all of that 5 minutes had gone by. It felt like years. How does anyone do this?
I managed a full 30 minutes. When I was at the point of loud screams and curse words the entire gym would hear, I decided to finish my workout on the track. I only had 28 laps to do to get to 6 miles!
As I set off around the track, I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally I was getting somewhere. I actually felt like I was moving. I finished the first mile in 10 minutes. As I was doing the laps I thought about why the treadmill makes me so miserable these days. Treadmills are about time, not distance. You can’t watch the miles go by running in one spot. All you can do is wait for the numbers to tell you that you are going forward. Marathons are about distance. They’re not meant to be fast. They’re meant to be slow and steady. A first time marathoner shouldn’t even have a time goal! Treadmills punish that with their tedium. Outside (or even on a track) it’s much easier to focus on distance. Whether it’s how close you are to home, or how many laps you have done, your watch won’t tell you how far you have come. Time and treadmills move at a constant pace; runners do not. There are subtle variations in our speed based on landscape and weather and how we are feeling. That’s what I like about endurance running. Moving with the natural rhythms of my body and the landscape and taking in the surroundings. Accomplishing the miles. Going out for a long run, turning around, and somehow making it home. Tomorrow I will take my running back outside and leave the treadmill for short speed workouts or moments of true desperation. Tomorrow, I will have a new appreciation for the sidewalks, the streets and even the cold—and I owe it all to the treadmill.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)